love | Zikoko!

If you made it to the end of 2025, chances are you’re one of two people: the one who finally found their person, or the one trying to gather the strength to try again in 2026. Either way, it’s not just you. Love has a way of putting people through the wringer, and every year comes with its own lessons.

To make sense of it all, we spoke to Nigerians about how their love lives actually played out this year. Not the highlights people post online, but the real experiences behind the scenes: the dates that didn’t lead anywhere, the situationships that lingered too long, the relationships that brought peace, and the ones that fell apart.

What we got was a mix of joy, frustration, clarity, and exhaustion. These 15 Nigerians reflected on their 2025 love stories and shared what the year taught them about dating, commitment, and knowing when to stay or move on.

When you’re done reading, you can also look back on your own year. We’ve created a short quiz at the end that helps you make sense of what your 2025 love life really looked like.

“I stopped dating to focus on money” — Seyi, 32

At the beginning of the year, I made a very deliberate decision about dating: I wasn’t going to spend serious money on it. I’d had enough of high-effort dates that gulped my money only for things to fizzle out after two weeks. I told myself that if a date couldn’t happen without me stretching my budget, then it probably wasn’t worth it. I think that mindset limited my dating experience this year.

I went on three dates between January and April. One was with a woman I met through a mutual friend. We had drinks, talked about work, and realised very quickly that we wanted different things. Another was someone I matched with online. We met for lunch, and the conversation stayed surface-level the entire time. The last date initially felt promising, but once I realised I was the only one making plans and following up, I stopped trying. None of them turned into anything close to serious, and after the third one, I didn’t bother again.

Then I lost my remote job. It was a high-paying role, and losing it hit harder than I expected. I stopped moving around as much, stopped saying yes to outings, and started watching my spending closely. Dating completely fell off my radar. I didn’t feel sad about it; it just didn’t feel responsible to think about romance when I was trying to stabilise my finances. In a strange way, I was relieved that I didn’t have to worry about spending money on someone else while figuring my own life out.

The only thing I genuinely missed this year was sex. I tried to exercise discipline, but I won’t pretend I was perfect. When the urge became too much, I helped myself. Other times, I reached out to old flames who didn’t need much impressing. Two of them were open to meeting, and we hooked up a couple of times with no strings attached.

Right now, my love life feels nonexistent. I’m not chasing anyone, and no one is chasing me. I don’t know what next year will bring, and I’m fine with that. For now, my focus is getting my finances back on track. Once I feel stable again, I’ll think about dating properly. Until then, love can wait.

“2025 taught me not to put all my eggs in one basket” — Nimi, 25*

I spent most of 2025 in a situationship that didn’t benefit me at all. We met late last year and slipped into something romantic early this year. I hoped it would turn into a proper relationship, but it never did. He kept insisting that what we had was fine, even though it clearly wasn’t what I wanted. Without my consent, it became a friends-with-benefits situation, and I stayed longer than I should have because I kept hoping he’d eventually come around.

What finally pushed me to leave was realising that he lacked empathy. I lost my mum a few months ago, and that loss changed everything for me. It was one of the hardest moments of my life, and he wasn’t there for me in any meaningful way. That was when I accepted that he didn’t genuinely care about me.

Losing my mum made me realise how short life is. Life is too short to spend on people who don’t care, so I ended things. It hasn’t been long, and I’m still adjusting, but I’m hopeful the future will be better.

Looking back, he wasn’t a caring person at all. We only went out once, and even in the early stages, everything revolved around him. I spent endless hours talking to him and making time for him, but I didn’t get that same energy in return.

**“It’s been a dreamy year” — Halima* 27**

This was the year I got cuffed. I got engaged this year, and I feel genuinely happy.

We’ve known each other for a while, but we became more intentional this year. We officially started dating, and from the beginning, the effort was evident. We went on dates almost every month, and each one had its own theme.

With him, I don’t feel alone. He’s intentional, and he knows me just as much as I know him. Being with him feels easy and reassuring. We’ve gone on more than 11 dates this year. If I had to count official ones, I’d say 11 out of 12, and December isn’t even over yet.

He pays for our dates, and he always replies to my texts. Consistency has never been a question. If I had to describe my 2025 in one word, it would be bliss. It’s been wonderful.

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“I’ve sort of given up on finding love” — Bimpe, 29, F

In February, I started seeing a former good friend casually, but adding sex to our friendship completely ruined it. Each time we met to hook up, he became cold afterwards. I felt like he thought I was trying to trick him into a committed relationship through intimacy. His constant hot-and-cold behaviour drained me, so I cut him off.

In May, I met a fantastic guy at a bar. We both stepped outside to smoke, and he offered to help me light up. The attraction hit immediately. We exchanged contacts and started talking every day. He ticked all my boxes — tall, rich, and dreadlocked. My issue with him was timing. He wanted to get married at the beginning of next year, and I didn’t want to rush into marriage. We made out a few times, but things fizzled out by July.

Since then, I’ve hopped in and out of talking stages. I met two people on dating apps and another at a restaurant. All I can say is that there’s nothing in the streets. I ghosted the restaurant guy when he told me he was going through a divorce. I didn’t believe him. Lagos married men stay married until I see divorce papers, please.

Right now, I’m on my own. I’m trying to get a new job and increase my income. I don’t have time for Lagos men and their confusion, at least not for now.

“Finding love is hard right now” — Chidi*, 28, M

I haven’t been in a relationship since 2021. Back then, I saw myself as a playboy and stuck to casual flings. I avoided anything serious.

As more of my friends started settling down, getting married, and building families, I began yearning for my own person. I decided to spend this year searching for her, but the shege I saw still has me shaking.

I tried to stay upfront about wanting something serious with the women I met, but things kept going wrong. Just like last year, I moved from one situationship to another.

In March, I entered a talking stage with a babe I met, but it only lasted two weeks. She came over to my place and tried to get me to dash her an expensive pair of sunglasses I had just bought. I said no. After she left, she never replied to my messages again.

I can’t count how many times this year I met someone at a party, felt the vibe, exchanged socials, and sent a message; only for her to never respond. If you’ve found love, please stay there. There’s nothing outside.

**“I thought I’d be married by 30” — Ibukun*, 32**

I always believed I’d be married by 30; that was the timeline I imagined for myself. Now I’m here at 32, still single, still meeting men, and still having the same conversations that don’t lead anywhere. Most of the men I meet aren’t bad people; they’re just not ready for marriage, and that’s a hard thing to keep accepting year after year.

For most of 2025, I stayed on my own. I didn’t date or entertain talking stages. Instead, I leaned heavily into my faith. I spent a lot of time praying, journaling, and asking God questions about my life.

Around August, I decided to try dating again. I met a man on Instagram, and from the start, he seemed like everything I’d been praying for. He was kind, financially stable, emotionally present, and clear about wanting something serious. We went on several dates and had lots of fun. Still, I couldn’t shake a feeling that he was holding something back. I tried to ignore it because everything looked right, but a voice in my head kept telling me to be patient.

In September, he finally told me that he had a child. He explained the situation carefully and said he wanted to be honest because he saw potential in me. I appreciated his honesty, but I knew immediately that I couldn’t continue. I’m not ready to step into motherhood, especially not as a stepmother. After that conversation, I checked out emotionally.

I’ve been alone again since then. Some days are harder than others, especially when I think about how much I still want marriage. But I’m choosing to believe that 2026 will be kinder to me.

**“I kept sleeping with my ex because it just felt easy” — Ibrahim*, 30**

My ex and I broke up in 2024, but we never really stopped talking to each other. Anytime talking to someone new felt stressful, I went back to him, especially for the sex.

I went on dates with some people this year, but once conversations started turning serious, I lost interest. After those dates, I often texted my ex and asked if I could come over. We’d have sex and barely talk about anything else.

If I’m being honest, I spent more time with him than anyone else this year. I know it’s not ideal, but I also think it’s better than ending up in a situation where someone new breaks my heart. He’s also not seeing anyone, so I know he needs me right now as much as I need him.

We’re both ending the year single and open to whatever the near future holds.

**“I was searching all through the year” — Mike* 32**

This year has been a rollercoaster for me. I ended a three-year relationship after we took a hard look at our future and realised we weren’t a good match. Our families didn’t align on some important things, and it became clear that love alone wasn’t enough to sustain us. After that, I was eager to move on and start dating again.

I went on at least six dates this year, but I only went on a second date twice. I don’t believe in dating apps, so mutual connections introduced me to most of the people I met. Even with that, dating hasn’t been easy. I haven’t met anyone who truly aligns with me.

One woman seemed promising, but she told me she didn’t want kids and didn’t believe in God. Those are fundamental values for me, so I ended things.

I’ll admit that I reached out to my ex a few times. A part of me wondered if we’d made a mistake, especially since I hadn’t met anyone who felt right. Still, I know why we broke up. I remain hopeful and continue searching.

**“I protected my heart this year” — Charity*, 23**

This year, I became very careful about who I commit to because commitment means a lot to me. As a result, I went on zero dates. My love life is non-existent.

I met a few people, but red flags always showed up. I met someone at an event and hoped things would be different. We vibed immediately and talked all night. However, when we returned for the event the next day, she was already talking to someone else. That hurt more than I expected.

Since then, I’ve stayed skeptical. My last relationship scarred and drained me emotionally. My ex manipulated me, and that experience made me extremely cautious about getting close to anyone again.

**“My love life suddenly became uncertain” — Ishaya* 25**

This year challenged me emotionally. My girlfriend left the country after we had been together for almost five years. She was my sweetheart, and losing the physical closeness so suddenly was hard to accept.

She got an opportunity abroad and left around June. Even now, it still feels unreal. We both feared what the future would hold because neither of us was sure we could hold on in the long term. My business ties me to Nigeria, while she has her own dreams she needs to pursue.

I’ve tried to stay hopeful, but it hasn’t been easy. I went on a date once and met someone genuinely kind, but I felt deeply guilty the entire time. It didn’t work out because I wasn’t emotionally free, and she could tell. I felt like I was doing something wrong by trying to move forward.

I’m still with my girlfriend, and I’m holding on to the hope that next year will bring clarity about where we’re headed. It’s really been an uncertain year for me.

**“I’m trying to give love a chance again” — Bolanle*, 44**

I lost my husband in 2019, and for years after that, I completely shut myself off from love. Any time a man showed interest, I turned him down. I told myself my children were my priority and that dating or marrying again would feel like betraying the man I once promised my life to. I didn’t even consider dating an option.

Then, sometime last year, a man I once loved deeply and almost married reappeared in my life. Life had taken us in different directions back then. He got married, his wife later left, and he’s been single for a few years. When he reached out again, I didn’t think much of it. But he stayed consistent. He checked in on me, supported me, and showed genuine care for my children without trying to impress anyone.

This year, things slowly changed between us. He never rushed me or pushed for anything. He made his intentions clear, but he moved at my pace. We started spending time together and I can’t deny that it felt nice to have someone dote on me again.

We’re seeing each other now, and while it’s still early, it feels good to know I’m not alone. I don’t feel pressured or afraid; I feel supported. After everything I’ve been through, that alone feels like a blessing.

**“I enjoyed my hoe phase this year” — Jaffar*, 25**

I started the year knowing I didn’t want anything serious. I tried dating last year, but it felt suffocating. And maybe the guy was just a douchebag. Anyway, I got really active on dating apps this year. I’ve always had the apps but stayed away because of “kito” stories. One day, I said fuck it and met a guy on my street. There was no going back after that.

Most of my meet-ups were straightforward. We’d talk for a bit, agree on what we wanted, meet, and go our separate ways. Some turned into repeat encounters, but if I started feeling too attached, I stepped back.

It may seem wild, but I appreciate that I’m experiencing this phase on my terms. Not because I’m spiralling because of a heartbreak or anything like that. I just want to have fun. I don’t know if next year will be about finding love, but 2025 owes me nothing for real.

“I can’t find someone who shares my lifestyle” — Samuel, 37, M

Dating this year has been hard. I’m agnostic, and I’m upfront about it. As soon as I tell the women I’m seeing, they end things. I’m ending the year just as single as I started it.

My first date happened in February. She’s a nurse, and a mutual friend introduced us. We hit it off immediately. At first, she didn’t seem bothered by my lack of religion, but by March, when I started talking about making things official, she told me she couldn’t be “unequally yoked” according to her faith.

That one hurt because I genuinely liked her. Even now, I still text her occasionally to check in. Recently, she told me she had started seeing someone else. I feel happy for her; I just wish I could find someone who shares my beliefs too.

I’ve tried dating other people since then, but I keep running into the same issues. Either my lack of religion becomes a problem, or they waste my time. It’s emotionally exhausting, but I haven’t given up. I still believe my person is out there.

**“I got back with my ex for the third time” — Kenny* 24**

This year has been a roller coaster; I still feel like I haven’t fully broken free from my ex.

This is the third time we’ve gotten back together. Distance caused our first breakup, and during that break, she dated someone else. When we got back together, I couldn’t process or forgive that, and it eventually led to another breakup, even though I still felt emotionally tied to her.

I drunk-texted her around March, and that’s how we ended up together for the third time. Since then, we’ve tried to apply the lessons from our past mistakes. I’ve been open to the process, but the relationship still moves in cycles of highs and lows because I don’t know if we truly work best together.

I hope we do, people around me are watching to see how it ends. I’m hoping that the love and care we have for each other will be enough to make things work, even with the distance between us.

**“I finally followed through” — Thompson*, 41**

I’d been engaged twice before this year, and both times, things crashed for reasons I’m not comfortable getting into. After the second one ended, I stopped telling people about my romantic life. It felt embarrassing to keep explaining why things never worked out. By the end of 2024, I was tired of starting over, but realised I was even more tired of being alone.

I met my wife at a friend’s birthday dinner in January. We exchanged numbers that night and went on a date a week later. I remember feeling uneasy on our first few dates because there was nothing dramatic about us. We mostly talked about work, family responsibilities, and why our previous relationships failed. When she asked why my last engagement ended, I came clean and told her the truth.

We dated consistently for six months, and we had a good run. We got married quietly in November, and I’m really still taking it all in. In a way, I feel like I’ve finally ticked an important milestone.

Take our 2025 Love Life Wrapped quiz to see what your dating story says about you.

QUIZ: What Kind Of Lover Were You In 2025?

Love Life is a Zikoko weekly series about love, relationships, situationships, entanglements and everything in between.

Ani* (29) and Jessy* (32) met in 2019 at a beach in Lagos during a secondary school reunion party. But when Jessy impulsively proposed to Ani at a club in 2023, she turned him down because she needed him to take her more seriously.

On this week’s Love Life, they talk about bonding over party culture, navigating Jessy’s impulsiveness, and whether you can build a stable life with someone who makes decisions on the fly.

If you want to share your own Love Life story, fill out this form.

What’s your earliest memory of each other?

Jessy: 2019, at a beach party in Lagos. It was my secondary school’s 10-year reunion. We’d hired out this section of the beach, set up games, drinks and food. I was excited because I hadn’t seen most of these people since we graduated, and it was nice catching up with everyone. I noticed Ani pretty early in the party. She was participating in all the games, taking shots with people, laughing, dancing, and just having a great time. I thought she was one of my old schoolmates that I’d somehow forgotten. So I walked up to her and said, “Hey, what class were you in? I feel like I should remember you.”

Ani: I laughed and told him I didn’t go to his school. I was just there with my sister. He looked so confused for a second, like he was trying to reconcile how someone who didn’t go to the school could fit in so well. But yeah, that party was also my first memory of Jessy. The only difference is, I didn’t notice him until he walked up to me. We ended up talking for a while after that.

What did you guys talk about?

Jessy: About the party, about Lagos nightlife, about what we did for fun. She told me she loved going out, trying new places, and meeting new people, and I knew right away she was my kind of person. Before the party ended, I asked for her number. I told her I hosted parties regularly with my friends, and she seemed like the kind of person who’d enjoy them.

Ani: I gave him my number because he seemed genuine. Some guys ask for your number just to shoot their shot, but he was actually inviting me to an event. Plus, I was always looking for new places to party, new crowds to meet. So I thought, why not?

Right. Did you actually follow up after that?

Jessy: Yeah, about two weeks later. I was planning another party with some friends, and I remembered Ani. I texted her the details and asked if she wanted to come. I wasn’t expecting her to say yes; you know how it is, people give you their number and then ghost you. But she responded almost immediately and said she’d be there.

Ani: I was in my party phase at the time. Like, properly in it. I went out almost every weekend, sometimes during the week too. I loved the nightlife and the freedom of just letting loose. So when Jessy texted me about another party, I was in.

What was that second party like?

Ani: It was really fun. I brought some of my friends along, and we had a great time. But what stood out to me was how Jessy cared for us. He wasn’t just hosting, he was making sure everyone was good. He’d check in on people, make sure they had drinks, and introduce people to each other. He had this way of making you feel like you belonged, even if you’d just met him.

Jessy: I just like creating good vibes. If I’m throwing a party, I want everyone to have a great time. What’s the point otherwise?

Fair enough. So did you stay in touch after the party?

Jessy: We did. I’d hit her up whenever there was a party, a club night, a beach hangout, whatever. And she’d always come through. Sometimes she’d bring friends, sometimes she’d come alone. It became a thing. Like, if I was hosting something, Ani was going to be there.

Ani: And he didn’t just invite me to parties. Sometimes we’d meet up during the week for drinks, or we’d go check out a new restaurant someone had recommended. It was casual. We were just two people who enjoyed each other’s company and liked going out.

Hmmm. Did people assume you were dating?

Ani: All the time. My sister would ask, “So what’s going on with you and Jessy?” I’d tell her we were just friends, but I don’t think she believed me. I mean, we were always together, we had great chemistry, and we clearly enjoyed each other’s company. I get why she and other people thought there was more to it.

Jessy: I never corrected anyone when they assumed we were together. Honestly, I kind of liked that people thought that. But at the time, I genuinely saw her as a friend. A really cool friend who I loved hanging out with, but still just a friend.

So when did the relationship stop being platonic?

Jessy: For me, it was gradual. Sometime in 2020, during the lockdown, things began to shift for me. We couldn’t go out anymore, so we’d just talk on the phone for hours. And I started realising I really enjoyed those conversations. We’d talk about our childhoods, dreams, what we wanted out of life, and random philosophical stuff.

I learned that Ani is incredibly driven. She was studying for ICAN, working, and still managing to have a social life. I was impressed by her discipline. I also learned that she’s very family-oriented. She talked a lot about her siblings, her parents, how important they were to her. That made me see her in a different light.

Ani: Same. Lockdown forced us to connect on a different level. Before that, our friendship was mostly about going out and having fun. But when we couldn’t do that anymore, we had to actually talk and get to know each other beyond the party scene.

However, I was actually seeing someone at the time. A guy who was based abroad. We’d been talking for a while, making plans for him to visit Nigeria, but something always came up. He’d say he was coming in December, then it would change to March, then June. After a while, I got tired of waiting. Meanwhile, Jessy was right there. He was making an effort and I started comparing the two of them, and Jessy won every time.

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When did you make it official, Jessy?

Jessy: February 2022. We’d been talking about it for a few weeks, making sure we were both on the same page about what we wanted. Then one day, I just asked her to be my girlfriend, and she said yes. That was it.

Sweet. What were the early days of your relationship like?

Ani: Really smooth. We already knew each other so well by that point. There was no awkward phase, no discovering deal-breakers we hadn’t known about. We just transitioned from friends to partners seamlessly.

Jessy: The dynamic didn’t change much, honestly. We still went out together, still had fun, and talked for hours. The only difference was that now we were intentional about it. We were building something real and not acting on vibes.

Ani: And we balanced each other well. I was studying for ICAN, which meant long hours of reading and practice. Jessy was working full-time in marketing, so he also had busy weeks. But we understood each other’s schedules. During the week, we’d focus on work and responsibilities. On weekends, we’d go out, unwind, and have fun. It worked.

My only issue was Jessy’s impulsiveness.

Tell me more.

Ani: I started noticing maybe three or four months into the relationship. Little things at first. He’d see something online and buy it immediately without checking if it was in the budget. He’d decide on a Wednesday that we should drive to Ibadan for the weekend and just expect me to drop everything. It was fun sometimes, but it also worried me. I’m the kind of person who plans everything. I budget, schedule, and think ahead. Jessy doesn’t operate like that at all.

And I tried to talk to him. I’d say things like, “Babe, we need to plan these things. We can’t just wake up and decide to spend money we haven’t budgeted for.” And he’d promise to do better. But then a week later, he’d do the same thing again. It started to feel like a pattern.

Jessy: I know I’m impulsive. I’ve always been like that. If I don’t act on something immediately, I overthink it, and then I don’t do it at all. So I’ve learned to just go with my gut and figure things out as I go. I was trying, though. I know it didn’t always seem like it, but I was. It’s just hard for me to change something that’s so ingrained in who I am.

Ani: The craziest one he pulled was in April 2023. We’d been together for over a year, and we’d talked about marriage a few times. Not in depth, but enough for me to know he was thinking about it seriously. One Saturday night, we were at a club with some friends. The music was loud, everyone was dancing, drinks were flowing. And then, out of nowhere, Jessy gets down on one knee in the middle of the dance floor.

I looked at him kneeling there with the ring, and all I could think was, “Are you serious right now? You’re proposing to me in a club?” People around us started cheering, recording on their phones, and I just felt so disrespected. Like, this is supposed to be one of the most important moments of my life, and you’re turning it into a spectacle?

Jessy: I genuinely thought she’d love it. She loves clubs, she loves energy, she loves attention. I thought it would be romantic to propose in a place that represented how we bonded and connected. But I was wrong. She turned me down and walked out of the club.

Curious, how did you feel in that moment?

Jessy: I wasn’t thinking straight. I went after her, feeling embarrassed and hurt. Everyone in the club had just watched me get rejected. When I caught up with her outside, she was already fuming. I tried to explain that I thought she’d like it, but she wasn’t hearing it. She said I’d disrespected her, that I’d made the whole thing about me and my impulsiveness instead of about us.

She said that if I really wanted to marry her, I needed to put thought into it and plan properly. She also said I needed to show her that she was worth more than a spur-of-the-moment decision made in the middle of a party.

Right. And how long did it take to recover from that?

Jessy: Weeks. Maybe a month. Things were really tense between us. She was distant, while I was hurt and defensive. We weren’t communicating well, and I started wondering if I’d ruined everything. Eventually, I realised I needed to fix it. So I sat down and really thought about what she’d said, and I understood. She deserved better than what I’d given her.

So did you plan another proposal?

Jessy: Yeah. I took my time with it. I thought about what she’d like, what would be meaningful to her, what would show her that I was serious about this. In December of that same year, I proposed again. This time, it was just the two of us. Just me telling her why I loved her and why I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.

Ani: The second time was a lot better and felt intentional. He’d put thought into it. He’d planned it. And that’s all I wanted. So I said yes.

Jessy: We got married in March 2024. We had a small ceremony with close family and friends. It was beautiful, intimate, exactly what we both wanted.

Awwwn. How has marriage been so far?

Ani: It’s been really good. We still go out together, we still party, and we still have fun. But we’ve also built a life together outside of that. We support each other’s careers, and we’re learning how to be partners in every sense of the word.

But is Jessy’s impulsiveness still there?

Ani: It is. And honestly, it still worries me. It’s always in the small things and the big things. Like when he woke up on a random Friday and decided we should drive to Ibadan for the weekend without checking our schedules. He once booked a flight to Abuja without telling me first. There’s the financial bit too: a new gadget, an expensive dinner, concert tickets. And sometimes, it’s in major decisions, like when he switched jobs without having a solid backup plan.

Jessy: That worked out fine, though.

Ani: It worked out because I pushed him to think it through. Because I made him sit down and plan what he’d do if things didn’t work out with the new job. Left to him, he would’ve just quit and figured it out as he went along. That’s rattling.

I always remind him we’re not just two people dating anymore. We’re married and building a life together. Our personal decisions affect both of us.

Jessy: I hear her, and I’m trying to do better. I’ve gotten better at communicating with her before I make big decisions. I don’t just do things anymore without running them by her first. But the impulse is still there. I feel it all the time. I see something, and I want to just go for it. But now I pause, and I think about how it will affect us. I think that’s progress.

Neat. What’s the best thing about being married to each other?

Jessy: Ani gets me. She understands my need for fun and excitement, but she also grounds me when I need it. She’s my balance. And she’s incredibly supportive; when I wanted to switch jobs, she didn’t just criticise me. She helped me figure out a plan and encouraged me throughout the process. That means everything.

Ani: He makes life exciting. Before I met him, I was fun, but I was also kind of stuck in a routine. Jessy showed me how to live more freely, how to take risks, how to enjoy the moment. He also makes me laugh constantly, which is so important because life gets sad. And when things get serious, he shows up. He’s not perfect, but he’s trying.

Rooting for you guys. How would you rate your love life on a scale of 1-10?

Jessy: An 8. We’re solid, but we’re also still figuring out how to navigate our differences. I think we’ll get to a 10 as we keep growing.

Ani: I’d also say 8. We’re in a good place, but there’s room for improvement. I need him to be more intentional with his decisions, and he needs me to loosen up a bit and trust him more. If we can find that balance, we’ll be unstoppable.

*Names have been changed to protect the identity of the subjects.

If you want to share your own Love Life story, fill out this form.

After meeting Jide* at a basketball game, Bisi*(25) knew she had feelings for him. But what started as a cute campus romance slowly deteriorated into a relationship built on secrecy, religious guilt, and emotional manipulation.

In this story, Bisi shares how she became entangled with Jide, and how it took distance, time, and hindsight for her to finally understand what she was lucky to escape.

How it all started

I met Jide in 2019 at my school’s stadium. I’d gone there with a few friends to watch a basketball match. After the games ended, people stayed back, and it turned into a small party.

One of my female friends already knew Jide, so she introduced us. We started talking casually about school and places we’d lived. He mentioned he attended my primary school in Lagos*, though only briefly. At the time, it felt like an insane coincidence. Looking back, I don’t think it was true.

He said he had moved to Ibadan* to live with his grandparents, but he didn’t talk much about his family or his religion, and I didn’t press for details. We exchanged numbers, and that same night, we started texting.

I usually had night classes, and because of that, we saw each other often. He didn’t stay on campus, but he’d come over after my classes and sometimes stay the night. I eventually started going to his place too. I realised early on I liked him, so letting him into my life felt easy.

The relationship

About a month in, Jide asked if I had a boyfriend. I didn’t. My previous relationship ended after the guy moved abroad. I didn’t like him that much, so there wasn’t any significant heartbreak baggage. I wanted to give dating another shot, so I said yes when Jide asked me out.

What started as something casual quickly turned serious. He insisted we define the relationship, even though we’d known each other for barely a month. I hesitated, but he stayed persistent, and I fell. It didn’t help that he was charming, fine, and attentive. We kept the relationship lowkey. Only a few close friends on both sides knew. Jide often talked about how girls liked him and threw themselves at him, including the same girl who had introduced us. He didn’t want to take any chances.

At first, everything felt sweet. We saw each other almost every week, spent long hours together, and enjoyed each other’s company. In hindsight, that constant reminder of how desirable he was should have been a red flag, but at the time, I brushed it off.

Our first major issue came a few weeks later when I bought tickets for us to attend a school play together. We had discussed it beforehand, so I assumed it was settled. On the day of the play, he went silent and was unreachable.

When he finally responded the next day, he claimed he had to rush to church. That was when he casually mentioned that he was a Jehovah’s Witness. The revelation caught me off guard. I asked why he hadn’t mentioned it earlier, and he explained that Jehovah’s Witnesses aren’t allowed to date people outside their faith. That meant he technically wasn’t even supposed to be with me.

At first, I didn’t believe him. I went online, researched it, and fell into a rabbit hole. That was when I realised he wasn’t lying. Their belief system differed sharply from what I was used to, and dating outside the church was forbidden.

I apologised for doubting him, and that moment changed the dynamic of our relationship. From then on, he constantly framed himself as someone “breaking the rules” for me, like I was the reason he was constantly at war with his conscience.

When COVID hit in early 2020, we became long-distance. At first, we talked every day. Then communication slowly declined. Calls stopped, replies became shorter, and sometimes he disappeared completely.

Once, he stayed offline for almost two days. I got worried and kept trying to reach him. When he finally responded, he told me an elaborate story about injuring his hand with a mirror, fainting, and ending up in the hospital. I immediately apologised for being insensitive.

I tried everything to revive the connection after that, but nothing worked. Each time he disappeared and resurfaced, he always had a new excuse.

In June 2020, he told me he was getting baptised. He explained that baptism meant full commitment to the church. He also said he had confided in a mentor about our relationship, who advised him to end things because I wasn’t a Jehovah’s Witness.

That conversation broke me. I deleted his number to protect myself from the heartbreak, but I was visibly affected. My mum and friends knew something was wrong, but I didn’t tell them anything. I cried constantly and tried to distract myself by learning how to sew.

Getting back together

A month after the breakup, Jide texted again. He said he couldn’t hold it in anymore and just wanted to check on me. We started talking again as friends, until he suggested getting back together. He said we had to pretend we weren’t dating so his conscience wouldn’t bother him. Against my better judgment, I agreed. That was when things got worse.

Once, he asked me to send nude photos. When I refused, he got angry and told me I wasn’t the only girl he was talking to. His words shocked me. I told him never to use other women’s interest in him as a threat. Before we resolved that fight, I noticed a coursemate had started posting his pictures on her status. When I confronted him, he explained it away, claiming he was just being kind and she was using that opportunity to throw herself at him.

When school finally resumed after the COVID break, Jide started acting increasingly strange. He grew inconsistent, avoided plans, and constantly locked his phone. Something he never did before. He spent a lot of time with another girl in my class, Sarah*. He insisted nothing was happening and said he was only mentoring her.

A few weeks later, at a birthday gathering with Sarah, I saw a sexually suggestive photo of him on her phone. He had sent the same photo to me privately. That moment confirmed he’d been playing me the entire time.

The next time we hung out, I went through his phone and checked his messages. I saw how he texted Sarah, giving her just enough attention to keep her interested without committing to anything. When I confronted him, he admitted he had kissed her once but insisted nothing else had happened. I didn’t know what to believe. My feelings clouded my judgment, but I knew his actions hurt me, and I wanted out. After that, I stopped believing anything he said.

Not long after, during our last time together, I stayed over at his place. I told him clearly that I didn’t want to be touched and I wasn’t in the mood, but he ignored me and tried to force himself on me. When he saw blood, he stopped and started apologising.

I didn’t know how to process what had happened, so I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t even know what to call it. He apologised repeatedly, and somehow, we kept talking. I don’t know why I didn’t cut him off then, but something inside me was already broken.

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The aftermath

Soon after, he grew cold and distant, avoiding me out of his own guilt. When I confronted him, he said he was “just tired” and wanted to end things. Later, our mutual friends told me he framed the breakup as a moral decision. He claimed his religious conscience forced him to leave because I wouldn’t let go otherwise. I couldn’t believe it.

After we broke up, I found out he had already moved on to four other women, referring to one as his girlfriend. He lied to them, saying we had broken up long before and made sure we never crossed paths in school. He told them the same story he told me: that he only showed me kindness and that I was throwing myself at him. After I told a friend everything, she got so upset on my behalf that she gathered the other girls, and we all confronted Jide together. When we asked him to show us the messages he sent each of us, he claimed his phone had been formatted. The audacity was crazy.

Looking back, the lies, exaggerations, and manipulation were always there; I don’t know why I indulged him for so long. But that confrontation allowed the last scales to fall off my eyes, and I cut him off completely.

He had a case with the school and struggled to graduate that year. I reached out once to check on him, but in his usual fashion, he told me lies and details that didn’t add up, so I just left him to his devices. Someone that untruthful is dangerous, and I’m glad he’s no longer in my life.

The topic of how young Nigerians navigate romantic relationships with their earnings is a minefield of hot takes. In Love Currency, we get into what relationships across income brackets look like in different cities.

Interested in talking about how money moves in your relationship? If yes, click here.

How long have you been with your partner?

My wife, Rhoda, and I have been together for six years and married for four.

How did you meet?

Through a mutual friend. I needed a tailor to sew some outfits for a family event, and I remembered my friend who always looked sharp in native attire. So, I asked for his tailor’s details, and it turned out to be Rhoda.

The first thing I noticed was how pretty she was. Also, she seemed really hardworking. I went to her studio to give her the materials, and the place was filled with apprentices, with customers dropping in at intervals. I love seeing young people do really good work, and besides her beauty, that was another thing I admired about Rhoda.

I didn’t fall in love on the spot, but there was definitely fascination at first sight. Even when she delayed my outfits and gave multiple excuses like Nigerian tailors usually do, I didn’t get angry (laughs).

So, how did you move from a working relationship to a romantic one?

After I got my outfits, I kept chatting her up at intervals. At first, she wasn’t the most responsive. But she must’ve noticed I was trying to get close because she eventually started responding regularly.

We talked for almost a month before we went on our first date at a restaurant I’d been meaning to check out. I spent about ₦35k on food and transportation for that date. That’s where I popped the question: Will you be my girlfriend? She said yes.

That’s sweet. What were your finances like at the time?

I’d just gotten my first official job, earning ₦100k/month and squatting with my brother to save on rent expenses.

Rhoda and I didn’t really talk about each other’s finances while we were dating, but I’m sure she made more money than I did. Her business was quite successful, and she even bailed me out with the odd ₦10k once in a while when I went broke before salary day.

Also, after we got engaged, she often visited me at my brother’s house to cook for me out of her own pocket. So, while we didn’t actually sit down to track how much either of us was making, we had this unspoken agreement that we’d do nice things for each other whenever we had money. For instance, Rhoda hasn’t paid for internet ever since we got together, because I always buy her data. She also buys me stuff, so it’s vice versa.

The first time we made a specific effort to discuss our expenses was during our 2021 wedding planning.

What did you both agree on?

We agreed that it wasn’t realistic for me to handle all the expenses. I think my salary at the time was just under ₦200k/month, with a few side hustles bringing in extra money here and there.

So, we agreed that I’d handle bills like the hall and photography, while Rhoda would handle the outfits and her makeup. Our parents chipped in to help with food, hall decoration and other small expenses. It wasn’t a big over-the-top wedding. We just did what we could afford. I’m not sure our total expenses reached ₦2m.

What’s the financial dynamic like now that you’re married? Do you still split bills?

Yes, we split bills. However, I can’t say we’ve settled on an approach that works for us. I think this is because we didn’t clearly share our financial expectations with each other before marriage.

I believe that my money is our money, and my wife’s money should be ours too. When one person brings out money to pay house rent or buy food, it’s not a case of “I paid the rent,” it’s all our money. So whether it comes from my wife or me, we should use it together for the good of our home.

However, Rhoda can be particular about her money. She believes I should take on the bulk of the expenses, so whenever she has to pay for something, she complains or acts like she’s shouldering my responsibility.

It’s strange because she didn’t give me this impression of her when we were dating. Or maybe I didn’t notice because we didn’t have shared expenses.

Hmm. Does this cause friction between the two of you?

At first, we fought a lot about it. I’m a salary earner, so it’s inevitable that I’ll be broke before salary day.

So, what usually happened was that I’d spend all my money on transportation and household expenses. When it finished, I’d ask her to support my transportation and pick up the rest of the bills.

I didn’t know she found that uncomfortable. To her, it was as if I was forcing her into a breadwinner role and collecting her money. So, she’d complain about it, and that didn’t go down well with me. It felt like she was saying she didn’t want to contribute at all. As a result, we fought a lot about money in the first two to three years of our marriage. We even saw counsellors in church.

We’re better now, but it’s not necessarily because Rhoda has changed; I’m just learning to live with it. She now covers most of the food expenses, while I handle the rest. Despite that, she often complains about how expensive things have become, but I just try to ignore her. Sometimes, I support the food expenses. Other times, I simply tell her to manage what we have. If there’s no money, we can drink garri.

Do you both know what the other earns now?

My wife knows how much I earn. She also knows that I regularly take on side hustles to cover expenses, but we don’t really discuss how much I earn from side gigs because the amount is not a constant figure.

My wife doesn’t work a salaried job, and I don’t track everything that enters her account, so I can’t say this exact figure is her monthly income. However, since we’ve been taking our money issues to counsellors, she’s been trying to be open about her income. She can just say, “A client paid me ₦50k today, so I used it to buy chicken” or something like that.

I still think she isn’t pulling her weight, though. I mean, she helps, but I don’t think she’s contributing fairly. I work multiple jobs to earn around ₦600k monthly, but we’re not living a good life. It’s even more difficult because we have a child. I believe we’d be more comfortable if my wife were more open to pooling resources, but raising matters like this often leads to long talk, so I just let it be.

Interesting. Do you both have safety nets?

It’s mostly for rent. Our rent costs ₦800k/year, and I save ₦50k monthly, while Rhoda pitches in whenever she has extra money to make up the full amount. I also have a different ₦50k/month savings for emergencies. I have a little under ₦800k in the emergency fund.

Over the years, we’ve had to take loans for major projects. For instance, in 2022, we took a ₦1m loan to set up our solar electricity system and inverter. I don’t think I’ll do that again anytime soon. Since I couldn’t manage to save and repay the loan at the same time, I asked Rhoda to fund part of the monthly repayment — we were paying around ₦100k/month, so she was bringing ₦65k. I know the complaints I got from her during that period. It’s like, you’re also enjoying this thing, but you want me to carry all or most of the financial burden because I’m the man. That’s not realistic.

I just hope things will continue to improve and we’ll understand each other better as we spend more time together.

How do dates and gifts work in your relationship?

Dates are usually limited to birthdays and anniversaries. If it’s my birthday, my wife takes me out and handles the bills and vice versa. I usually handle the bills for anniversary dates, but we buy each other gifts. For our last anniversary, Rhoda bought me a pair of shoes, and I bought her a jewellery set for ₦20k.

What’s your ideal financial future as a couple?

I’d just like us to be a true unit when it comes to finances one day. I think it’s only then that we can have big dreams, such as owning our own house or relocating in the future.

Interested in talking about how money moves in your relationship? If yes, click here.

*Names have been changed for the sake of anonymity.

NEXT READ: He Tries His Best, but I Often Feel Financially Stressed

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If your long-distance relationship (LDR) is caused by one or both partners being frequent travellers or digital nomads, you’re dealing with a different kind of challenge. In most LDRs, the main problem is partners missing each other. However, in addition to that, you’re dealing with navigating time zone differences, cross-border payments, spontaneous travel changes, and financial stress.

It’s a whole lot, and if you spot these signs, it means your relationship might struggle to endure the complexities of life on the move.

Someone refuses to adjust for time zone differences

In a travel-based LDR, scheduling calls involves making significant shared sacrifices. Is your boo in a time zone seven hours away, and they always expect you to be the one to stay up until 2 a.m. for a quick call?

A good partner shares the inconvenience. If they can’t lose two hours of sleep to spend time with you, do we really need to tell you there’s a problem?

You genuinely don’t know when you’ll see each other again

If you and your partner haven’t discussed a concrete plan, date, and budget for the next time you’ll physically see each other within the next 6-12 months, your relationship is likely running on vibes.

A small travel change sends them into financial chaos

Travel is all about unexpected changes. A flight can get cancelled, or you urgently need to make an emergency payment in a foreign currency.

If any of these spontaneous moments sends your partner into panic mode because of the fear of bank fees or getting stranded without access to their money, they’re probably not equipped for this lifestyle. When your partner is far away, you need them to be financially flexible and prepared. If they are still stressing over basic cross-border payments, they are wasting energy that should be spent on you.

They’re still paying wild fees for currency exchange

You and your partner are essentially throwing money away if you’re paying high airport exchange rates and incurring multiple international transaction fees every month.

You can’t be serious about travel if you are not smart about money. This is where Timon comes in. It’s the one fintech app that simplifies payments, currency exchange, and secures international transactions, ensuring your money works everywhere, without limitations.

Instead of sifting through multiple fintech apps to find one that works with your naira abroad, think of Timon as the only financial passport you need for global travel.

Your calls are filled with complaints about travel logistics

If every video call is dominated by complaints about visa woes or payment issues without space for a genuine emotional connection, your romance might be on holiday. Besides, why should you still be dealing with the stress of travel when you can go the Timon way?

Ready to upgrade your life (and your wallet)? Get Timon

If your love is strong enough to survive international borders, it deserves a financial tool that makes life smooth.

Timon is the essential travel fintech app simplifying global payments and effortless connectivity with a range of exciting features:

The Timon Black Card gives you the freedom to pay seamlessly using Google Pay or Apple Pay, making transfers to merchants across African countries without the usual hassle.
The Timon USD card allows you to fund your account in naira and spend internationally with ease. On top of that, global eSIMs keep you connected 24/7, no matter where your travels take you.

Whether you are a frequent traveller, a remote worker, or someone who simply wants to enjoy better payments across borders, Timon brings all these solutions into one easy-to-use app.

So, download the Timon app today, sign up, and explore all the different ways Timon makes your money work everywhere, without limitations.

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Nurein* (54) never grew up imagining marriage as something romantic. For him, marriage was simply the next stage of responsibility. He married young, built a home with the woman who understood him best, and unexpectedly became a single father after tragedy struck. Almost twenty years later, he found love again in the most unlikely place.

In this week’s Marriage Diaries, he reflects on rebuilding after loss, blending two families into one, learning to express himself again, and why love cannot stand alone in a marriage.

This is his marriage diary.

Got a marriage story to share? Please fill the form and we’ll reach out.

Marriage wasn’t romance for me; it was about responsibility

Before I ever thought about getting married, I’d already decided I wasn’t a romantic person. It’s not that I didn’t care about women; I just didn’t express affection the way people expect. I believed in providing, protecting and showing up. Everything after that felt unnecessary or foreign.

My father shaped most of that. He used to say, “A man becomes a man the day he pays his own rent.” According to him, the next step was marriage. Not for love, but because a responsible man builds a family. That was the mindset I grew up with. I was surrounded by men who believed the same thing. My father had seven younger brothers, and they all treated marriage like a duty, not a grand love story.

So when marriage became a conversation in my life, it wasn’t because I was searching for deep connections or the love of my life; the decision felt straightforward. She was ready for marriage, and I was too; we understood each other well enough to build something solid. At the time, that made perfect sense to me.

Losing my first wife broke parts of me I didn’t know existed

Nothing prepared me for 2001. My first wife died in a car accident on her way back from work and left me with three children. That period broke parts of me I didn’t even know existed.

She understood me in a way nobody else ever had. She knew silence didn’t mean anger. She never pressured me to talk when I wasn’t in the mood. Life was simple with her, and losing her felt like losing my balance.

My family wanted me to remarry quickly so someone could raise the children, but I refused. I didn’t want anyone replacing their mother, and I was scared of my children being treated like outsiders in their own home. So I took on everything. I became the parent they cried to, the parent who packed their bags for school and the parent who cooked. My late mother helped until she passed, but the weight was mostly on me.

If anyone had told me then that I would marry again, I would have dismissed it immediately.

I didn’t plan to fall in love again. Life just pushed me there

Nearly two decades passed before anything like love appeared again, and it happened in the most ordinary place. I met my current wife at my last born’s school during visiting day. She was a single mother with two children and we kept running into each other.

At first, it was just casual greetings. Slowly, it became short conversations. Over time, we started looking forward to those meetings even more than the visiting day itself.

Five years went by, and we were still constant in each other’s lives. Eventually, we agreed it was time to bring our families together. We moved into one house with her children, my children and hopes for one child together. That part hasn’t happened, but we’re still trusting God.

The day we told the kids we were all going to live together remains one of my happiest moments. They were excited in a way that assured me we were making the right decision.

Blending two families will test every part of you

Nobody prepares you for the complexity of combining households. I didn’t doubt my ability to be a good partner because I’d been married before, but this was different. Each of us came with children who had their histories and peculiarities. And it was difficult to effectively play daddy and mummy.

But one of the hardest parts has been navigating the presence of my wife’s ex-husband. He’s not active in their lives, but every now and then, he asks to see the children. And as much as I want to be the only father figure they rely on, I can’t deny them access to their biological father.

So I have to sit with that discomfort and still encourage a relationship I’m not emotionally comfortable with. With my own kids, it’s simpler because their mother is gone. But with hers, every request from their father forces me to be the bigger person and think about what’s right.

Then there’s the financial side of things. When people ask me how many children I have, I say five. All five eat my food, sleep under my roof and call me daddy when they feel like it. My wife supports us, but she allows me to play the role of father fully, and I take that seriously.

Still, we get those small misunderstandings where a child reports an issue to me instead of her, or vice versa. We always pull everyone together and remind them that there’s no division here. We are one family.

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My wife wants conversations, but I prefer silence

Communication is the area I struggle with the most. My wife is expressive. She likes to talk through things, share her thoughts and hear mine. She expects conversations on days I’m comfortable being quiet.

When she talks and I stay silent, she feels ignored, even when I’m simply thinking. What starts as a small moment easily becomes a misunderstanding. I’ve had to learn that silence doesn’t always work in marriage.

I’ve had to stretch myself. Sometimes, I force myself to talk about the day. Other times, I pretend I don’t know something and let her explain it because I know it makes her feel heard. I ask her questions I already know the answers to so she knows I’m paying attention.

It doesn’t come naturally, but marriage requires sacrifices you don’t always expect. I’m not the same man I was with my first wife. I’m gentler now, more expressive than I’ve ever been, even though it’s still not perfect.

Marriage has made me more patient and playful than I imagined

If you had met me twenty years ago, you would never believe I’d become the man I am now. I like to joke that I’m the judge of the house. Every day, somebody is reporting somebody, and I have to settle it fairly. That alone has stretched my patience.

But I’ve also become softer. My wife says I still don’t talk enough, but she doesn’t know the version of me my first wife knew; I was the man who barely spoke at all. Now, I sit with the kids to watch TV even when I’m not interested. I gist with them so they don’t call me strict. I play more than I ever imagined I would.

Marriage will teach you things about yourself that you didn’t even know were hiding somewhere inside.

Love is good, but love alone cannot carry a marriage

I believe love plays a strong role, but I don’t think it can stand alone. Marriage needs communication, patience, sacrifice, commitment and the willingness to show up for your family every day.

Love won’t raise children, settle conflicts among five siblings or help you swallow your pride when your partner needs reassurance. Love won’t guide you when you’re learning how to blend two families.

There is a place for love, but there must also be a place for responsibility and maturity. That balance is what keeps a home standing.

I’ve lived through two different marriages and learned from both. The first taught me devotion and the second taught me growth. Together, they taught me that it’s possible to love and stretch your heart in ways you never thought possible.

*Names have been changed to protect the identity of the subjects.

Got a marriage story to share? Please fill the form and we’ll reach out.

Love Life is a Zikoko weekly series about love, relationships, situationships, entanglements and everything in between.

Subomi* (28) and Derinsola* (27) are university mates who went from enemies to lovers. For years, they couldn’t stand each other until the NYSC camp forced them into the same space and changed everything.

On this week’s Love Life, they talk about campus politics, realising they had more in common than they thought, and why they’ve had to ban all talk of politics to keep their relationship intact.

If you want to share your own Love Life story, fill out this form.

What’s your earliest memory of each other?

Subomi: 200 level, around 2016 or 2017. I’d just joined the department as a direct entry student, so I was completely new to everyone. I’m naturally extroverted. I talk to people easily, make friends quickly, so within a few weeks, I’d already integrated into the department. I knew most people’s names, joined group chats, and attended all the hangouts. I was just being myself, really. But Derin didn’t seem to like me. Whenever I said “hi,” she either turned away or barely responded. But I didn’t think too much about it. I continued befriending whoever wanted to be my friend.

Derinsola: And I hated it. I remember when he joined the department. He was always in people’s faces, acting like he’d been there since 100 level. I found it incredibly annoying. I thought, “Who is this person? Why is he so loud?” I kept my distance because I just couldn’t deal with his energy. We were in the same classes sometimes, but I made sure we never had to interact beyond what was necessary.

Subomi: I didn’t even know she felt that way at first. I thought we were just two people who didn’t know each other well. It wasn’t until much later that I realised she actively disliked me.

Right. So when did you start interacting directly?

Subomi: Toward the end of 200 level. I’d been thinking about running for departmental president and started putting feelers out to see if I had a chance. That’s when I found out Derinsola was also planning to run. I thought, “Okay, this is going to be interesting.” We weren’t friends, but I didn’t think we were enemies either. The election changed that.

Derinsola: The moment I heard he was running, I knew it was going to be messy. We were already not fans of each other, and now we were competing for the same position. The entire campaign became chaotic. There were camps forming, people taking sides, rumours flying around. It brought out the worst in both of us.

What do you mean?

Derinsola: The campaign was intense. I’d been in the department since 100 level, so I had the advantage of time. I knew the older students, the lecturers, and the course reps from other levels. I had built-in support. Subomi, on the other hand, was a DE student who’d only been around for a year. But he’d built a following so quickly that it actually scared me. People liked him because he was charismatic, funny, the kind of person who could walk into a room and instantly command attention. So even though I had seniority, I knew I had a real fight on my hands.

Subomi: I also felt disadvantaged because I was new. But I’d worked hard to build relationships in that one year. I attended every departmental event, joined every group project, and made myself visible. By the time the election came around, I had enough people backing me that I genuinely believed I could win. The campaign itself got ugly at some point; there were accusations, people trying to discredit each other, alliances forming and breaking. The dean of student affairs had to intervene at some point when the situation started getting violent.

Wow.

Derinsola: When we resumed 300 level, and the election was getting closer, Shubomi came to me and tried to get me to step down. I was so angry. I looked him dead in the eye and told him there was no way in hell I was stepping down. If anything, it made me more determined to beat him.

So, who won the election?

Derinsola: I did. And not by a small margin either. When the results came out, it was clear I had more support. I remember the moment they announced it, I felt vindicated. All that hard work and years of dedication to the department paid off. He looked devastated, and honestly, I was glad. I wanted him to know he couldn’t just waltz into the department and take over.

Subomi: I was crushed, actually. I’d put everything into that campaign, and I lost. It hurt so bad, but I knew I had to handle it with grace. I congratulated her publicly, told people to support her administration, and even offered to help her with whatever she needed. I didn’t want to be the bitter loser who made everyone uncomfortable. I wanted to show that I could lose and still be mature about it.

Right. Derinsola, how did you respond to his offer to help?

Derinsola: I didn’t trust him. Not even a little bit. Every time he offered to help, I’d shut him down or treat him coldly. I was convinced he was trying to sabotage me from the inside; that he’d join my team, gather information, and use it against me somehow. Looking back now, I know I was paranoid. But at the time, I couldn’t see past my own suspicion. So I made it very clear that I didn’t need or want his help.

Subomi: I’d walk up to her, trying to be friendly, and she’d barely acknowledge me. At some point, I gave up. So we spent the rest of our time in school barely speaking to each other. We’d be in the same classes, the same departmental events, but we avoided each other as much as possible. When we had to interact, it was civil but distant. I honestly thought that was the end of our story.

I can imagine. How did you find your way back to each other?

Subomi: 2022. NYSC camp in Ikeja. I was at the registration centre, filling out forms, and I looked up and saw her standing a few meters away. My first thought was, “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Of all the local governments in Lagos, of all the NYSC batches, we ended up in the same place at the same time. It felt like some kind of cosmic joke.

Derinsola: I had the exact same reaction. When I saw him, I actually groaned out loud. My friend asked what was wrong, and I said, “That guy over there. We went to the same school, and we hate each other.” She laughed and said, “Well, you’re stuck with him for the next three weeks.”

What was your interaction like after you saw each other?

Subomi: Awkward as hell. We made eye contact, and for a few seconds, neither of us knew what to do. I could see her deciding whether to ignore me or acknowledge me. Eventually, I just walked over and said, “Hey, Derin. Long time.” She looked surprised that I’d even approached her, but she said hi back. We exchanged a few awkward pleasantries, asked each other where we’d been since graduation, what we’d been up to. It was surface-level, but it was civil. That was a start.

Derinsola: I was genuinely surprised he acknowledged me. I thought maybe he was still bitter about the election and would just ignore me. But he seemed different. Less uppity, more relaxed. I don’t know if it was the camp stress. We were all just trying to survive the drills, the heat, the terrible food, and the overcrowded hostels.

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Fair enough. When did things start to shift between you two?

Derinsola: It happened gradually. We started gravitating toward each other without really planning it. We’d see each other during the parade, or at the mammy market, or during the evening socials, and we’d end up talking. At first, it was just about camp stuff. We’d complain about the platoon leaders, laugh at the ridiculous rules, and share tips on how to survive. But then the conversations got deeper.

We started talking about what we’d been doing since graduation, our career plans, and our lives outside of camp. And the more we talked, the more I realised we actually had a lot in common. We liked the same music, we had similar views on certain things, and we even had mutual friends we’d never known about. I started thinking I was wrong about him.

Subomi: Same for me. I started seeing her in a completely different light. She wasn’t the cold, uptight person I remembered from school. She was funny and surprisingly easy to talk to. She had this dry sense of humour that caught me off guard and made me laugh. By the second week of camp, we were spending most of our free time together. We’d sit together during lectures, eat together at the mammy market, and walk around camp just talking for hours. It felt natural, like we’d been friends for years instead of enemies.

I see. So, at what point did things start to move from a platonic level?

Shubomi: For me, it was maybe a month or two after camp. We met during weekly CDS, and I started noticing little things about her. The way she laughed, the way she got animated when she was talking about something she cared about, and the way she’d check in on me to make sure I was okay. I started looking forward to seeing her every week. I wasn’t actively looking for a relationship at the time. I’d just come out of something messy with my ex, and I was trying to focus on myself and my career. But Derin made it hard not to feel something. She just fit easily into my life at that particular time.

Right. Were you single too, Derin?

Derinsola: I was actually seeing someone at the time. Long distance. He was based in Abuja, working, and we barely saw each other. Maybe once every two months if we were lucky. We’d talk on the phone, but it always felt like he was too busy, too tired, or too distracted. I’d complain to Shubomi about how I felt neglected and how I was tired of being the only one putting in effort, and Shubomi would just listen. He didn’t try to turn me against my boyfriend or anything like that. He’d just say things like, “You deserve better than this,” or “You shouldn’t have to beg for attention.” And I started realising he was right. I was settling for someone who wasn’t giving me what I needed, while Shubomi, whom I’d spent years hating, was right there, showing up for me every single day.

When did you tell her how you felt, Shubomi?

Subomi: One evening after CDS. We were chilling at a restaurant, just talking. She was telling me about another fight she’d had with her boyfriend, and I could see how exhausted she was. So I just said it. I told her about my feelings and how I wasn’t trying to mess up her relationship. I said she deserved better, and I wanted to be that person if she’ll let me.”

Derinsola: I was shocked, but not really. Part of me had been sensing it. When he finally said it out loud, I didn’t know what to say. I told him I needed time to think. But deep down, I already knew. I’d been developing feelings for him, too. I was more excited to see Shubomi than I was to talk to my boyfriend. That told me everything I needed to know. I ended things with my boyfriend a few weeks later. It wasn’t easy, but it was necessary. And in February 2023, Shubomi and I made it official.

Nice. What were the early days of the relationship like?

Derinsola: Really sweet. We spent a lot of time together. We’d visit each other on weekends, call every night before bed, and send each other random texts throughout the day. It felt easy and natural, like we’d been doing this for years.

Subomi: It was one of those relationships where everything just clicked. We already knew each other’s flaws, so there were no surprises. We knew exactly what we were getting into, and we still chose each other. That felt incredibly special. However, we still had our share of disagreements.

Tell me more.

Derinsola: A few months into the relationship. We realised that the same thing that brought us together—our shared interest in politics and social issues—was also tearing us apart. We’d get into these long, heated arguments about everything. Politics, economic policies, social justice, and gender issues. And they weren’t friendly debates. They were full-blown fights where we’d both get emotional and say things we didn’t mean.

Can you give me a specific example?

Derinsola: The 2023 elections almost ended us. Shubomi supported Tinubu. I supported Peter Obi. And we both felt so strongly about our choices that we couldn’t just agree to disagree. Every time something came up about the elections, we’d get into it. He’d defend Tinubu’s record as Lagos governor, and I’d bring up all the issues with his administration. He’d say I was being emotional and not looking at facts, and I’d say he was being willfully blind to corruption. It got so bad that we stopped talking for three days at one point.

Subomi: I still stand by my decision. I believed Tinubu was the best candidate at the time based on my analysis of the political landscape and the realistic options available. But I’ll admit I was probably too vocal about it. I was on X defending him and arguing with people. It drove Derin crazy.

Derinsola: The worst part was after he won. Shubomi had this smug energy for weeks, and I couldn’t stand it. I remember telling him, “If you send me one more text about this election, I’m blocking you.” And I meant it. To this day, when I think about how loud and supportive he was of APC, it still makes my blood boil.

How did you guys move past that?

Subomi: We had to have a serious conversation about it. After that three-day silent treatment, I realised we couldn’t keep going like this. So I called her and said we needed to have a conversation. We talked for hours that night, and both admitted that we’d let our egos get in the way and we’d been more interested in winning the argument than understanding each other’s perspectives. We eventually agreed that politics and social issues were off-limits unless absolutely necessary.

Derinsola: It wasn’t easy to accept that boundary at first. But we realised that being right wasn’t worth losing each other over. So now, when we feel an argument starting, one of us will say, “Let’s not do this,” and we drop it. We change the subject, we walk away, we do whatever we need to do to avoid going down that road.

Do you think avoiding these conversations is sustainable long-term?

Derinsola: I don’t know. Sometimes I worry that we’re just sweeping things under the rug, that eventually, it’s going to blow up in our faces. But for now, it’s working. We’ve found other things to bond over, like careers, families, and our future plans together. We don’t need to agree on everything to love each other.

Subomi: I think as we mature and grow together, we’ll get better at having these conversations without them turning into fights. We’re learning how to disagree respectfully, listen even when we don’t agree, and how to recognise when a conversation is about to cross a line. It’s a work in progress, but we’re committed to figuring it out.

Rooting for you both. What’s the best thing about being with each other?

Subomi: She challenges me in ways no one else does. She makes me think critically about things I might have accepted without a second thought. Even when we disagree, I respect her intelligence and her ability to articulate her thoughts clearly. She’s also incredibly supportive of my career and my goals. When I’m stressed about work or uncertain about a decision, she’s the first person I turn to, because I know she’ll give me honest and thoughtful advice.

Derinsola: He’s dependable. When I need him, he shows up without excuses or hesitation. And despite all our arguments and our differences, he’s never made me feel like he doesn’t care about me or value me. He’s also hilarious, which honestly saves us most of the time. When things get tense or we’re about to start arguing, he’ll say something ridiculous that makes me laugh, and suddenly the tension is gone. That’s a gift.

How would you rate your love on a scale of 1-10?

Subomi: I’d say an 8. We’re building something real together. However, we’re still learning how to navigate our differences, communicate more effectively, and resolve conflicts fairly. We’ll get to a 10 eventually, but we’re not there yet.

Derinsola: I’d also say 8. We have our challenges, but I genuinely believe we can work through them. We’ve already overcome so much—going from enemies to friends to lovers isn’t a small thing. If we can do that, we can handle whatever else comes our way.

*Names have been changed to protect the identity of the subjects.

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Some people first experience terrible relationships that chip away at their self-esteem and sanity before they finally meet someone who treats them the way they’ve always deserved.

These people share what it was like leaving toxic partners and moving into relationships that feel emotionally safe.

“I can’t believe I wasted three years of my life on my ex” — Rachel*, 29, F

After she got into a relationship with her current boyfriend, Rachel understood the gentleness that had been missing from her romantic life.

“My ex and I dated from 2021 to 2024. We got into the relationship with clear intentions for it to lead to marriage, so I was locked in. I would go from Berger to his house in Ogba every week to cook for him, wash his clothes and clean his apartment because I thought it would show him that I’d make a good partner.

Instead of giving me the validation I craved, my ex constantly insulted me. He called me ‘stupid’ or ‘daft’ if I made a mistake. He’d say things like, ‘The mother of my children can’t be this stupid.’ Instead of complaining, I tried harder to impress him. When he left me for another woman in March 2024, I was devastated. It felt like I wasn’t good enough, and would end up alone.

In early 2025, I met my current boyfriend, Jide*. I was wary about dating him, but his gentle nature completely disarmed me. He and my ex are like night and day.

First, he has never insulted me or made me feel small. He says mistakes help us learn better ways to do things. The first time I stayed over at his house, I tried to cook and clean like I did with my ex. He stopped me and said I’m a guest and didn’t have to lift a finger. Instead, he cooked for us.

I’ve been unlearning a lot since I got into this new relationship. From conflict resolution to learning to speak my mind, I hardly recognise the person I was before Jide. I can’t believe I wasted three years of my life with someone who didn’t appreciate me at all. Now, I’m constantly surrounded by gentleness and love, and I’ve never been happier. I’m so grateful to my ex for breaking up with me because how would I have met this amazing person if I was determined to make it work with that guy?”

“My new man loves spending time with me, and I love it” — John*, 25, M

John shares how moving on from someone who only saw him as a bed warmer changed his love life.

“I used to fear exploring my sexuality, especially back in school. After I graduated, I started dipping my toes in the dating waters, and at first, it was hard to connect with people.

I started seeing a guy casually in 2022, and my biggest issue was that he treated me like I was only useful for sex. He’d be warm when he wanted me to come over, but once we were done, he’d close up emotionally and get prickly until I left. He wouldn’t respond to my texts, and even though I didn’t like how he treated me, I craved the intimacy we shared right before sex. In 2023, I’d had enough of his hot and cold behaviour and cut him off . Still, a part of me believed that’s just how most closeted men behave.

Fast forward to 2025, and I japa-ed to Europe. At a party earlier this year, I met a cute Nigerian guy, and we hit it off. Dating him feels completely different. The biggest difference is how he genuinely enjoys spending time with me. I love it.

He always finds time in his schedule for us to take walks, grab a meal or see a movie. It feels special to be with someone who wants you in his life and does everything to make you feel included. My only advice? Leave that nonchalant man today, there are better things waiting for you in front.”

“My ex tried to hide me from his friends” — Temi*, 28, F

Temi’s ex tried to keep her a secret because she “wasn’t his type”, but her new boyfriend proudly shows her off.

“It’s embarrassing to recall this, but the guy I dated from 2020 to 2022 didn’t want to be seen with me. When we got together during the lockdown, we spent a lot of time together, and I liked that we shared the same tastes in movies and books. We lived on the same street, so we saw each other every day. At first, I didn’t question why he never took me out because there were restrictions everywhere. I was happy to spend time with him at his place.

But I remember him joking that he couldn’t tell his friends about me because I didn’t look like the curvy girls he used to date. I brushed it off until restrictions eased and I realised he was serious.

He refused to interact with me on social media. When I asked why, he’d say he didn’t see my posts. Other times, he would quote photos of curvy girls with ‘God when?’ and say it was a joke when I complained. I tried to be understanding, but his behaviour kept chipping at my self-esteem.

The last straw came during our anniversary in 2022. I posted a selfie of us on my Instagram story. Barely a minute later, he started messaging me to take it down because he wanted to keep our relationship lowkey. I asked why a two-year relationship needed to be ‘lowkey’, but he just gave me flimsy excuses. It turned into a big argument, and eventually I broke up with him. That experience made me emotionally closed off for a long time.

In late 2024, a close friend introduced me to her brother, and I gave dating another try. It’s the best decision I’ve ever made. It’s so obvious this man likes me for me. He doesn’t make weird jokes about me or my body, and he’s not ashamed to show me off to everyone who’ll listen.

Going from being a secret to being publicly cherished was so jarring. I used to feel shy when he would post me every Wednesday as his woman crush on all his socials, but now, I love it. I feel emotionally safe and very loved. Something I can’t say for my past relationship.”

“I went from fighting every day to the most peaceful relationship in my life.” — Ibrahim*, 36, M

Ibrahim left a combative ex-girlfriend in 2024 and is now enjoying peaceful bliss in his current relationship.

“My last relationship lasted seven years before I decided I’d had enough. I loved her deeply and tried to make things work, but nothing I ever did was enough for her.

Things looked great at the start, but only a few months in, we started fighting every day. Even on days when I was determined not to argue with her, she’d twist something I said and start another argument. It exhausted me emotionally.

We planned to get married in 2023 despite everything, and when I met her parents in 2022, I understood exactly why she behaved the way she did. Her father was just the same. In the short time I spent at their house, he and her mum had a heated argument right in front of me.

I finally called it quits when she started screaming and throwing things at me during a fight in 2023. I realised our relationship would only get worse, so I ended it. She didn’t take it well. She told me I was a riffraff and blocked me everywhere. Honestly, I was more relieved than hurt about it.

I met my current girlfriend at a bar, and I don’t remember dating being so smooth. We hardly argue, and even when we do, it’s not explosive like it used to be with my ex. She’s gentle, kind and funny. She has brought so much joy and peace to my life that I count her twice when I count my blessings.

I proposed to her in August 2025, and I can’t wait to make her my wife. All my happiness has doubled since she came into my life. It’s like seeing the sun after a storm.”

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“I didn’t realise how drained I was until I finally met someone who poured back into me.” — Tobi, 30, M*

Tobi realised how draining his old relationship was when he started dating someone who gave him the same level of care he showed her.

“I started dating my ex in late 2020, and at first, I thought I’d hit the jackpot. She was funny, stylish and very affectionate. But as time went on, I realised her affection only showed up when she wanted something from me. I was the one funding dates, sending money whenever she hinted she was ‘broke’, buying her gifts and helping her with errands. But anytime I needed support, even something as small as a listening ear, she’d say I was being too needy.

I remember one time in 2022 when I lost a freelance gig and tried to confide in her. She blew me off and claimed she was too busy to talk. Meanwhile, I’d spent the whole week helping. By 2023, I was emotionally exhausted and broke up with her.

In mid-2024, I met someone through a friend, and it was the first time in years that love didn’t feel like a chore. She shows up emotionally and makes me feel seen. The first time she sent me a care package when I was sick, I almost cried because I wasn’t used to anyone thinking of me that way.

Dating her has shown me that relationships don’t have to feel draining. I feel so lucky to be experiencing this much softness.”

At 33, Chuka* believes he’s confronting the effects of his decisions. Between a six-year relationship that collapsed abroad and a secret entanglement that left lingering consequences, he’s had to relearn what love and partnership mean.

In this story, he unpacks the relationships he’s encountered in his search for love.

What’s your relationship status, and how do you feel about it?

I’m single and ready to mingle. I’ve been single for almost three years now, and I wonder if things would’ve turned out differently if I’d made better decisions.

Why do you feel that way? Walk me through your dating history.

My first relationship started in my third year of university with Aisha*. We met through sports. I played basketball while she played volleyball, and we were always around each other during training and competitions. She was gorgeous and very good at her sport. I had a crush on her for a while before I finally approached her, and we started dating in 2014.

We made a good couple, but we kept breaking up and returning because of religion. She was Muslim, and I’m Christian. We initially agreed to respect each other’s beliefs, but religion became the main issue. Five months in, she ended things the first time because she said her dad was an “Alfa” and would never approve.

I convinced her to come back because I didn’t think it was a big deal. But my mentality changed when I told my mum about her. When I mentioned Aisha’s name, my mum said God forbid I end up with a Muslim.

Oh.

We attempted to find a solution to the issue. However, things got worse in February 2016 during our NYSC registration. The network at the cybercafé was down, so we decided to rest at my house, which was nearby. My mum was around and treated her really badly. I introduced Aisha, and my mum just walked away without acknowledging her. I tried to cover up by saying she was angry with me, but Aisha didn’t believe me. She left my house and returned to the cafe.

After that incident, we gradually drifted apart. Even though I begged and we eventually got back together, things weren’t the same. When our NYSC postings were announced, and we were posted to different states later that year, the relationship died naturally.

How did you move on from that breakup?

It didn’t hit me hard because I’d mentally prepared myself months before. After Aisha, I met other people, but I wasn’t ready for anything serious. I stayed focused on building my career. It took almost two years before I met Diana* and had my most serious relationship.

Tell me about Diana. What was that relationship like?

We met in 2018 on a Friday evening after closing from work in another state and boarding a bus home. We sat beside each other, and she had a terrible stomach upset. The driver refused to stop at first, even though she asked, so we shouted at him until he finally did. She always said she started liking me when I gave her my last bottle of water so she could wash her hands.

We exchanged numbers, went on a date before I returned to my base, and kept talking. She told me she liked me, and we started dating. Months later, she met my mum, who liked her, and a year later, I met her family, and they loved me too. It was a good relationship, and I could see a future with her.

But by our fourth year in 2021, communication became a real issue. My job made regular visits hard, and she always had excuses for why she couldn’t travel to see me. We argued a lot about it. That was around the time I met Layefa* and got into a fling with her.

Wait, what? How did that start?

Layefa was an undergraduate at the state university near my work accommodation. I met her at a snack shop when she didn’t have enough money and was calling her friend to pay. It was just about ₦1,200, so I covered it. She thanked me, and that was that. Later, we ran into each other again, exchanged contacts, and started talking. One thing led to another, and we started hooking up.

At that point, things with Diana were shaky. I wasn’t thinking straight. I’m human, and the attention from Layefa felt convenient, especially since Diana and I barely saw each other.

Right. How did you manage both relationships?

I never saw it as two relationships. Diana was still my main focus, and I always saw the thing with Layefa as temporary, but it dragged on for seven months. She was much younger and still in school, and even though we were intimate, I treated her more like a younger sister.

Things got complicated when she started talking about our future and even moving in with me. I kept dodging the conversations because that wasn’t going to happen. Meanwhile, Diana and I were entering our fifth year, and both families kept asking when we’d get married. That pressure, plus the guilt I felt, pushed me into making a decision.

I proposed to Diana in December 2021 and ended things with Layefa. When she insisted on knowing why, I told her the truth. She was furious. She threatened me, cursed me, and swore I’d never have peace in relationships. But I’d made my decision and wasn’t fazed.

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How did things go with Diana after the proposal?

For a while, our relationship seemed fine. But about five months later, she said she wanted to travel for her master’s because she finally got the scholarship she’d been trying for. I didn’t think it was the right time because I wasn’t ready to relocate, but she insisted.

When she left in July 2022, the distance affected us badly. She blamed the six-hour time difference, and I was the only one making an effort to communicate frequently. Then, in April 2023, she posted an Instagram story with a white guy, and they looked too close. She said he was her coursemate, but I found his Instagram through the school page and saw several pictures of them together.

When I confronted her, she eventually admitted they were sleeping together. I suggested counselling and asked that we move up the wedding plans before her program ended, but she said I was pressuring her and blocked me everywhere. Her family couldn’t appeal to her on my behalf either. I was devastated. We’d spent six years together.

That must’ve hurt. Did you try dating again?

Four months later, my mum introduced me to Blessing* from church. She was a nice girl, but I was still grieving Diana, and she felt I treated her like a stranger. We only talked for three months before she cut off communication, saying the distance caused by my job didn’t align with what she wanted.

After that, I didn’t date for a long time. I even lost my job late last year, so relationships were the last thing on my mind. At some point, I even wondered if Layefa’s curses were manifesting because everything was falling apart. But I’ve changed a lot since then. I’m actively looking for someone now and hoping for the best.

I hope it works out. How have these experiences shaped your idea of love?

They taught me that love is a compromise that only works when both people are willing to meet in the middle. With Diana, we didn’t choose each other consistently. I let my issues push me toward Layefa when I should’ve faced things head-on. And Diana also chose her career and someone else over me. These days, I even think about what compromise might’ve looked like for Aisha and me.

I’ve learned that no one is perfect. You just need someone who’s willing to meet you halfway.

Finally, how are the streets treating you? Rate it on a scale of 1 to 10.

It’s a 3/10 for me. I don’t enjoy single life. I’m getting older, and I’d like to settle down before 35. I want a family and someone to do life with.

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Simbi* (31) always imagined marriage as a fairytale where every lady meets her Prince Charming. However, her first relationship gave her a harsh reality check, and years later, she found herself marrying a man fifteen years her senior.

In this week’s Marriage Diaries, she talks about redefining romance, navigating in-law dynamics, the moment she nearly broke off her relationship over family tension, and why she still believes love is enough.

This is her marriage diary.

I grew up waiting for a Prince Charming who looked like a movie character

Long before I got married, love existed for me inside storybooks. As a child, I devoured Ladybird fairytales, dreaming of enchanted castles, destiny encounters and princesses who always found their Prince Charming. I even gave myself the nickname Cinderella in primary school because that’s how fully immersed I was in romance worlds I hadn’t lived.

By secondary school, Disney magic evolved into romcom novels. I’d spend hours reading and imagining myself as a character in the pages of the book. In university, Bollywood and K-dramas joined the mix. I lived inside those stories so much that my parents occasionally wondered if I spared any attention for my academics. Every emotion I imagined, every fantasy I considered “true love,” came from the make-believe world.

Reality didn’t hit until my first boyfriend. He was my first kiss, my first cinema date, my first everything. For a while, the relationship looked exactly like the movies I loved. And then it fell apart. He changed in ways I still struggle to describe. There was unnecessary drama, confusion upon confusion until things fell apart. Even when the relationship was clearly dying, I didn’t want to leave because I believed he was “the one.” It took my friends dragging me, emotionally and verbally, for me to finally walk away. It was the first crack in my fairytale lens.

Falling in love with an older man was the first real surprise of my adult life

If anyone had told me I’d marry someone fifteen years older, I wouldn’t have believed it. In all the romantic stories I absorbed, the couples were always age mates or close in age. Older men were never part of the script.

Then, in university, I gained weight. Suddenly, older men paid me more attention, sometimes in uncomfortable ways. I heard male coursemates say things like I was “heavy duty” and not for young boys. Married men approached me at parties, and I hated it. So I shut out all older men.

My husband was the first one I gave a chance. He was 40 when we met, dealing with delays in his life and two failed engagements. I only noticed him because he didn’t look his age. That made me listen, then pay attention, then fall. The age gap that once scared me became something I barely noticed.

If anyone had told me then that he’d become my partner, I would have laughed. But loving him changed my idea of romance in a way I didn’t see coming.

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One comment from my husband’s family made me feel like running

I still remember the day I wondered whether marriage to my husband was truly something I could handle. It started with what should’ve been an innocent family visit. His mum and two sisters were around. It was spontaneous, and I hadn’t planned it, so I arrived empty-handed.

They teased me about it, not maliciously, but my husband wasn’t having it. He reacted sharply, and it quickly escalated into a back-and-forth between him and his family. I excused myself, but internally, I panicked.

For two weeks, I avoided him. I kept replaying the scene in my mind: three women much older than me, and me stuck in the middle of drama I didn’t create. I couldn’t imagine a lifetime where I’d be in conflict with people I barely knew but was expected to respect deeply.

When we finally spoke, I told him I wanted to end things. I didn’t want him constantly defending me against his family. I didn’t want to be the reason he clashed with the women who raised him.

It took a lot of reassurance from him and my mum to convince me not to run. Looking back four years later, I’m grateful I stayed.

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No one prepares you for navigating a family that’s not yours

Before marriage, my mum practically trained me for my new family. She taught me how to show respect to older women, how to observe, when to talk, when to stay quiet, and even made me set reminders to call my mother-in-law and sisters-in-law. But nothing beats real life experience.

A few months after we got married, my mother-in-law visited for two weeks. She was warm and pleasant, but insisted on cooking and dishing up the meals during her stay. At first, I took it personally, as if she was subtly telling me I wasn’t doing something right. My mum told me to join her in the kitchen instead of reading too much into it. That changed everything.

Then there were the unannounced visits from my sisters-in-law — smiling, bearing gifts, completely unaware that sometimes I felt like the odd one out. They’d settle into the living room, chatting and laughing with my husband in that familiar way people do when they’ve known each other forever.

For the first two years, I constantly felt like I was trying to prove myself. Now, I’ve completely settled into things. I understand their intentions better, and I’m more confident in my place in the family. Marriage teaches you diplomacy in ways school never can.

We had to learn how to meet in the middle when it came to respect and expression

The biggest recurring conflict in my marriage has been about how I relate to my husband in public or around his relatives. He doesn’t like pet names, touching his beard playfully, or hitting him jokingly when others are around. He finds it disrespectful and prefers that kind of affection to stay private.

We argued a lot about it because I didn’t want a marriage where I felt like I needed to switch versions of myself depending on the setting. After our first child, he even suggested we stop calling each other by name but I rejected that immediately.

Sometimes he leans into the age difference and tries to remind me he’s older and wiser. I always push back. I respect my husband deeply, but I don’t want a dynamic that feels like I’m reporting to a boss. Over time, I’ve learned to recognise when it’s cultural conditioning talking. He’s from a different generation, and occasionally it shows.

We’re still figuring it out, but we always return to honest conversations instead of letting resentment grow.

Motherhood changed the version of myself I thought I’d carry into marriage

I’ve lost and gained different parts of myself over the past four years. The biggest shift came with motherhood. I would’ve loved a little more time before having kids, but my husband was eager to be a dad because he was already 40 when we married.

We had our first child a year in, and that transition shook me. Even with all the support I had from my family, my in-laws, and him, nothing prepares you for the emotional weight of motherhood. Some nights, I woke up crying for no reason I could articulate.

But I also grew. I learned how to relate with older people, handle different personalities, and move confidently in rooms filled with my husband’s older friends. Most of them assume I’m older than I am, thanks to my stature. I always like to say that marriage stretched me, but it didn’t break me.

I believe love is enough

Maybe it’s the hopeless romantic in me, but I genuinely believe love can sustain a marriage. I know people say communication, patience and understanding matter, but I think real love fuels those things.

I’ve dated men who made me feel like they were doing me a favour by being with me. Today, I’m married to a man who genuinely loves me — a man who made all the pain, confusion and insecurity of my younger relationships feel like distant memories.

If I could tell my younger self anything, it would be: don’t fixate on age, and don’t let heartbreak distort your worth. Love, when it’s genuine, makes the rest of the work possible.

*Names have been changed to protect the identity of the subjects.

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“I stopped dating to focus on money” — Seyi, 32

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“2025 taught me not to put all my eggs in one basket” — Nimi, 25*

“It’s been a dreamy year” — Halima* 27

“I’ve sort of given up on finding love” — Bimpe*, 29*, F

“Finding love is hard right now” — Chidi*, 28, M

“I thought I’d be married by 30” — Ibukun*, 32

“I kept sleeping with my ex because it just felt easy” — Ibrahim*, 30

“I was searching all through the year” — Mike* 32

“I protected my heart this year” — Charity*, 23

“My love life suddenly became uncertain” — Ishaya* 25

“I’m trying to give love a chance again” — Bolanle*, 44

“I enjoyed my hoe phase this year” — Jaffar*, 25

“I can’t find someone who shares my lifestyle” — Samuel, 37, M

“I got back with my ex for the third time” — Kenny* 24

“I finally followed through” — Thompson*, 41

QUIZ: What Kind Of Lover Were You In 2025?

What’s your earliest memory of each other?

What did you guys talk about?

Right. Did you actually follow up after that?

What was that second party like?

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Fair enough. So did you stay in touch after the party?

Hmmm. Did people assume you were dating?

So when did the relationship stop being platonic?

When did you make it official, Jessy?

Sweet. What were the early days of your relationship like?

Tell me more.

Curious, how did you feel in that moment?

Right. And how long did it take to recover from that?

So did you plan another proposal?

Awwwn. How has marriage been so far?

But is Jessy’s impulsiveness still there?

Neat. What’s the best thing about being married to each other?

Rooting for you guys. How would you rate your love life on a scale of 1-10?

How it all started

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The relationship

Getting back together

The aftermath

How long have you been with your partner?

How did you meet?

So, how did you move from a working relationship to a romantic one?

That’s sweet. What were your finances like at the time?

What did you both agree on?

What’s the financial dynamic like now that you’re married? Do you still split bills?

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Hmm. Does this cause friction between the two of you?

Do you both know what the other earns now?

Interesting. Do you both have safety nets?

How do dates and gifts work in your relationship?

What’s your ideal financial future as a couple?

Someone refuses to adjust for time zone differences

You genuinely don’t know when you’ll see each other again

A small travel change sends them into financial chaos

They’re still paying wild fees for currency exchange

Your calls are filled with complaints about travel logistics

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Marriage wasn’t romance for me; it was about responsibility

Losing my first wife broke parts of me I didn’t know existed

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I didn’t plan to fall in love again. Life just pushed me there

Blending two families will test every part of you

My wife wants conversations, but I prefer silence

Marriage has made me more patient and playful than I imagined

Love is good, but love alone cannot carry a marriage

What’s your earliest memory of each other?

Right. So when did you start interacting directly?

What do you mean?

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Wow.

So, who won the election?

Right. Derinsola, how did you respond to his offer to help?

I can imagine. How did you find your way back to each other?

What was your interaction like after you saw each other?

Fair enough. When did things start to shift between you two?

I see. So, at what point did things start to move from a platonic level?

Right. Were you single too, Derin?

When did you tell her how you felt, Shubomi?

Nice. What were the early days of the relationship like?

**“It’s been a dreamy year” — Halima* 27**

“I’ve sort of given up on finding love” — Bimpe, 29, F

**“I thought I’d be married by 30” — Ibukun*, 32**

**“I kept sleeping with my ex because it just felt easy” — Ibrahim*, 30**

**“I was searching all through the year” — Mike* 32**

**“I protected my heart this year” — Charity*, 23**

**“My love life suddenly became uncertain” — Ishaya* 25**

**“I’m trying to give love a chance again” — Bolanle*, 44**

**“I enjoyed my hoe phase this year” — Jaffar*, 25**

**“I got back with my ex for the third time” — Kenny* 24**

**“I finally followed through” — Thompson*, 41**